


A Soft Goodbye to Youth

by 3HobbitsInATrenchcoat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adult Dipper Pines, Adult Mabel Pines, Alcohol, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Gen, Pines Family Bonding, Pines Family Feels, Pines Family Fluff, Smile Dip (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3HobbitsInATrenchcoat/pseuds/3HobbitsInATrenchcoat
Summary: Dipper and Mabel are finally celebration their 21st birthday, relaxing in the fading summer with their favorite grunkles. Stan and Ford have a surprise for their now-adult niblings: a carefully curated selection of beers from their world-wide travels.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines
Comments: 22
Kudos: 61





	A Soft Goodbye to Youth

**Author's Note:**

> August 31, 2020 is Dipper and Mabel's canonical 21st birthday. Happy Birthday to the best fictional kiddos.
> 
> Beta-read by the lovely [ Missintroverted ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missintroverted). Thank you so much!
> 
> I listened to this while writing, if you want the ambiance: [ morning chill magic ~ lofi hip hop mix ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPfHpn5eh8U)

The fading summer sunlight slowly disappeared behind the distant mountains, casting long shadows of pine trees across the yard. The uncanny red glow of Gravity Falls' native firefly population flickered in the treeline like watchful pinprick eyes. Years ago this might have unnerved the two figures sitting side by side on the back steps of the Mystery Shack, but today they leaned into one another and watched the tiny lights dance across the deepening shadows.

“Hey Dips? I have to head back at the end of the week.” Mabel's voice broke the silence, the ever-present click of her knitting needles her only accompaniment. “They're having some sort of crisis with the summer students and want the RA team in a couple days earlier than normal.”

Dipper winced and blew a raspberry into the growing gloom. “That sucks, I know you were hoping to stay out here longer. You told the grunks yet?”

Mabel shrugged, digging a bare toe under a loose piece of gravel and flinging it across the yard. “Not yet, I didn't wanna put a damper on the day. Nice birthday present from the college though, right? 'Happy Birthday, we're cutting your vacation short.' Ugh.”

“They're paying you for the extra time though, aren't they?” Dipper turned to fully look at his sister, whose jaw stubbornly clenched in an uncanny resemblance to Stan. The white blouse and red ribbon around her neck from her shift at the shack that afternoon only added to the similarity.

She let her head flop to the side to make eye contact with her brother. “Pffft, you really think I'd agree to do it if they weren't paying me? I already negotiated to get a bonus for 'separating myself from my loving family for an unexpected amount of time'.”

“That's my girl,” said Stan's voice from behind them and they turn to find their grunkle leaning in the kitchen doorway. Since Soos took late summer as vacation days, Stan's halfway out of his summertime Mr. Mystery attire: ribbon loose around his neck, sleeves rolled up, and coat nowhere to be seen. He grinned shark-like at his niece. “Bleed 'em dry, pumpkin.”

“Ordinarily I would not agree with Stanley on this,” said Ford, coming up behind his brother. Even in the summer heat he had his soft navy hoodie zipped nearly to his chin. His gentle smile was betrayed by the mischievous glint in his eyes. “But in this case, he is correct. Bleed them dry for pulling you away from us.”

Mabel's face fell a little. “You weren't supposed to hear all that. I wanted you to think summer was going to go on just as long as we'd planned.”

With a dry chuckle Stan pushed himself off the doorjamb and stepped across the porch to ruffle Mabel's hair with one broad hand. “Then we'll make whatever summer we have left count.” He eyed the two of them with a bit of a mischievous twinkle. “Now, I know the official party is tomorrow but I have it on good authority a certain pair of twins turned twenty-one today.”

“Nah, the cake and presents earlier were for some other Pines twins,” shot back Dipper with a grin. “We have no idea what you're talking about.”

Stan let out a noncommittal hum and pulled his other hand from behind his back. Two glass bottles hung from his fingers, clinking together softly. “Then I guess these aren't meant for you after all... I picked 'em out special and everything.” He laughed and held the bottles out, “Nah, I'm just kidding. Happy birthday, kiddos.”

They each took their bottle from him, curiously looking at the contents. Mabel held a pale pink and glittering concoction. _Unicorn Tear Cider_ read the label in garish gold ink. Dipper's bottle, by contrast, was a dark brown with an even darker liquid inside. A huge block of text on the label touts the beer as having been crafted from a centuries old recipe by long-forgotten monks. Ford stepped up beside his brother, handing him his own bottle of his favorite local brew.

“We figured the two of you were turning twenty-one and deserved a well-thought-out drink. I say we... it was Stanley's idea. I just helped him hunt these down. Something sickeningly sweet for Mabel and something with a bit of history for Dipper.” Ford smiled down at the twins. “There's more inside if you like them, but if you don't... I think Stan accrued a whole breweries' worth of possible candidates hunting for that perfect first drink.”

Dipper glanced sidelong at Mabel, his eyes conveying the slight panic of _oh fuck they don't know that we've been drinking at school long before now._ Mabel looked back at him with a small shake of her head, willing her brother to just take the offered drink with a smile.

Stan, who by now had wandered over to the couch and sat down with a quiet _oof_ , raised his bottle in mock salute. “First _legal_ drink, Poindexter. If these kids are anything like us, and you know they are, they've probably got plenty of practice with whatever terrible swill teens are sneaking around with these days.”

Mabel thought Dipper's eyes were going to pop out of his head with how wide they got. “You can't just... call us out like that, Grunkle Stan,” grumbled Dipper after a moment, face pink with embarrassment.

“Ah, but I ain't wrong.” Stan's eyes twinkled at his niblings and Mabel grinned at him before reaching back to clink her bottle against his.

“You aren't, but you chose these for us and that makes them special.” She tilted her head to face Ford, still leaning in the open doorway. He held out his own bottle and Mabel tapped them together with a delighted giggle.

Beside her, Dipper sniffed his bottle and gave it a hesitant sip. His nose scrunched for a moment in thought and he tilted the bottle to take a bigger mouthful, which turned out to be a mistake. The beer foamed and went straight up his nose. “What... what _IS_ this?” he choked out after Mabel pounded him on the back for a couple seconds. “It's not bad but.. did someone just liquefy some bread and stick it in a bottle? This is like drinking toast.”

Ford snorted into his own drink as Stan tilted his head back and laughed. “That's one way to put it, kiddo,” said Stan after a moment, wiping tears from his eyes. “Where'd we find that one, Ford? Oh, right, there was this little island monastery that was having some troubles with larger-than-average pigeons so we...” Stan started spinning the tale of how they'd camped out in the wheat fields to wait for these “dire-pigeons”. Every so often Ford would interrupt with occasional corrections to whatever Stan embellished.

“So, there we were, covered in pigeon-griffon shit in the middle of the monastery courtyard.” Stan started guffawing in laughter. “The poor monk that had to come talk to us – none of the others would get close because of the smell – the poor guy, he... he asks us what we want in payment and Ford. Ford says...” Stan trailed off into another snort of laughter.

“I simply asked for a hot shower. I didn't realize until later that my translator was broken and Stan speaks perfect Spanish.” Ford's face flushed pink as Stan continued to laugh.

“Oh no!” Mabel said, aghast. “What did you say?”

“He...” Stan wheezed through his laughter. “He told a buncha monks that he'd taken a lovely bath in hot shit.”

“Anyway, what my delightful twin is trying to say,” said Ford, a panicked tone rising in his voice. “Is that the monastery specialized in preserving a thousand year old wheat-beer recipe and paid part of our reward with a case of their latest batch. We thought Dipper might appreciate participating in a historic tradition.”

Dipper turned the bottle in his hands, thumb swiping reverently over the label. “That's really cool, Grunkle Ford. Thanks.”

“What about mine!?” Mabel bounced in place on her top step perch. “Did you fight any monsters for mine?”

“Ughhhh...” Stan flopped backward on the couch. “Only the worst monsters. That thing was a limited edition nightmare. I had to fight some glittery abomination for it.”

“He punched someone at the release party in Harajuku while screaming incoherently about how this cider was meant for you.” said Ford, deadpan. “We later found out that the drinks at the bar had been spiked with Smile Dip and that the person Stan had punched was responsible. Our hosts were very grateful and you now reap the benefits.”

“Oh, god.” Mabel said, leaning into Dipper in a show of drama. “Smile Dip strikes again. Good thing that stuff got banned forever ago.”

Ford's eyes slid over to meet Stan's and they shared an equally shifty look. “Well... it might be banned but we might also have 'acquired' a batch of cider from behind the bar. For testing purposes.”

“Grunkle Ford... _that's a federally controlled substance,_ ” started Dipper before taking a deep breath. “You can't investigate it without us!”

“Of course we can't, my boy,” said Ford, tilting back the rest of his bottle. “That's why you two are going to be our lab assistants for that project this last week before Mabel has to head back.”

“Really!” Dipper turned to his sister, delight beaming across his face. “Mabel we get to experiment with Smile Dip.”

She grinned at him, lifting her bottle to her mouth, “You say that like you didn't see me do that in 2012, Dip-Dop.” She took a sip and nearly choked. “Oh, fuck. You weren't kidding about this being sickeningly sweet. What is this, alcoholic sugar syrup?” Mabel squinted at the label, but it was difficult to read in the fading light. “Eh, whatever. It's delicious.”

The four of them sat on the back steps watching the fireflies in content silence for several long moments before Mabel once again spoke into the still evening air, half-drunk bottle dangling from her fingertips. “You said you had more of this that _wasn't_ laced with illegal drugs, Grunkle Stan?”

Stan grunted an affirmative and Mabel grinned sharply in his direction, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “I think it might be a good addition to my Mabel Juice.”

The horrified groans of her grunkles and the helpless laugh of her brother were all the birthday presents she could have ever asked for.

**Author's Note:**

> Thinking about Stan and Ford going around the world looking for esoteric beers like hipster grandpas just leaves warm fuzzies in my heart. I love them so much.
> 
> Please feel free to scream at me about them in the comments or on my tumblr!


End file.
